


This Is Halloween

by casstayinmyass



Category: Marilyn Manson (Band), The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
Genre: A Hot Topic Goth's Dream Fic, Alternate Universe - Halloweentown, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/M, Golden Age Of Grotesque Era, Gothic, Kissing, Manson Is The Mayor's Son, Poetic, Romance, Romantic Gestures, Self-Indulgent, Sexual Tension, Vampire Demon Reader, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22441432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: Him, the Mayor's son, and you, the Vampire's daughter. Will you ever end up together?
Relationships: Marilyn Manson/Reader, Sally/Jack Skellington
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is just some vignettes of my 'Manson in Halloweentown' plot bunny AU that wouldn't leave me alone. They're disjointed, but all follow the same storyline.

_“I would like, if I may, to take you on a strange journey; right this way...”_

The impact against the cobbled streets echoed under his tall platform boots, stratifying his height even more to ghastly proportions. He loomed above the rats, small bugs and other creepy crawlies that followed him, careful not to squish any of them. Despite hating many creatures, the innocents did not deserve his hatred; they never did.

The Mayor's son had inherited his father's "split" personality, without the fortunate ability to turn his head 360 degrees. One eye was black as night and the other an ethereal white as a skeleton, lips painted crimson red. His personality is as duplicitous as his face, a charming entertainer like his father when needs must, a reclusive hermit otherwise. 

Some around town say he has the genes of a vampire, and while it certainly would appear so, he does not drink blood, so that rumour had since been ruled out of the townsfolk's gossip. Some claim he has demon blood, but no signs point to him being a hellspawn like some others in town, so demonic ancestry remains a mystery. More claim that he was built, made in a factory in the image of the mayor, made of spare human parts and strange oddities like the lumplings were, but Doctor Finklestein discounts these rumours, refusing to lay claim to such a grotesque boy. Others still say his mother was some ghost haunting her way through the town's eligible bachelors, which is most believable. He does seem very much like a ghost, but his true matrilineal history will never be discovered, it seems. 

The single creature in Halloweentown that didn't spend her time wondering over Mayor Manson's spindly protégé was the very creature our story follows-- the daughter of the Vampire Prince and the Harlequin Demon.

She drummed her fingernails from the highest window of her tower, watching his freakishly elongated limbs cover the street below her in shrieking shadows. She found him cruel, an egomaniac, and a regular old maniac. One's reputation could certainly precede them, and with his, she knew for a fact she did not wish to dig any deeper beneath that pale skin and those mismatched eyes.

Still. Something about him or his persona haunted her. Most creatures in town fawned over him, especially those damned witches, but he took no notice. He had secrets, figurative (and non-figurative) skeletons in his closet, and mystery was something that drew her better than any one thing.

She busied herself with her night time batwing potion, downing the inky black liquid and getting into bed.

Down below, he looked up from beneath his eyelashes and the rim of his spiraling top hat, at her tall tower window.

From what he could see, her shadow still lingered.

\---

“Yes, father.”

He barely looked up as the much shorter Mayor strutted ahead of him. “You know that one day, I’ll have to step down!”

“You’re not a king,” Marilyn drawled, making the pained decision to indulge him with the reminder, “I’ll have to be elected to, I don’t just inherit the town.”

“Elections can be rigged. Besides! Everyone loves me—they'll love you too, my boy.”

“If you think everyone in this town loves me, you’re battier than the Vampire Prince,” Marilyn muttered. “I’m fundamentally loathsome.”

"Don't let them get you down. Every spooky soul in this town is as downright depressed at you!"

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" 

The mayor wasn’t listening anymore. He was going on about the plans for next Halloween, and Marilyn felt his mind wandering to the Vampire Prince’s daughter... the one he knew watched him at night.

She was beautiful, but she was very dainty, like a crystal. Terrible, like everyone here, but perfectly so—picturesque in her vampiric impurity, he had to have her. He thought of her when he was alone, of what her teeth would feel like sinking into his pale skin. Nothing made him burn more than beauty scarred and scathed, and he wanted to be the one to do it to her. She still had some kind of untouched radiance.

He liked them damaged, but he needed something left... something for him to wreck.


	2. Chapter 2

"Rumours always start somewhere."

The twitch of his lips carves a mysterious half smile in his face. "What are these rumours you're always going on about?" 

As you regard his infuriating half smile, you wonder why you eventually did make the move to speak to him. He's still as much of a mystery as he was when you did not know him. 

"There's one rumour that you eat lumplings."

"Not true at all, I'm friends with all the lumplings."

"You're friends with Lock, Shock and Barell, not the lumplings."

"Just Barell really, he gets my mail for me and I pay him in human bones to keep me off Oogie's list."

"Is that all it takes?"

"I also give him tips on how to flirt. So far he hasn't been successful, but like any good dealer, keep em hooked and they'll never stop working for you." He stares at you curiously. "Why? You worried you're on Oogie's list?"

You chuckle. "He wouldn't dare. My father's one of the most prominent citizens of Halloweentown." 

"Mine too, doesn't stop that fleabag from threatening my ass every second Sunday," Marilyn smirks, guiding you away from a stabbing branch. You look at him while he's focused ahead, tucking hair behind his ear. Maybe the rumours were wrong... maybe he was just the soft spoken, introverted creature he seemed to be around you. Then again, he inherited his father's duel face...

"Why are you looking at my eye?" he asks, turning to you. "Is there something wrong with having two faces?" _Like that._ A change in personality, quick as a snap.

"More like two faces melded into one," you shoot back. Fear creeps into your stomach as he begins to back you against a tree.

"More like none of your fucking business," he starts to ramble, "You think it's funny? You think I've got some kind of deformity? You think I'm a two faced freak?!" Suddenly, all the fire leaves his expression, soon replaced by melancholy. "You're right." He smiles sadly, gently, as he strokes a hand down your shoulder. "I didn’t mean that. I do that, I'm sorry. You can stare at it all you like. All day... all night." His gaze is penetrating, but you don't look away. Instead, you lean into his touch, stroking his pale face in turn.

"Nobody's a freak in Halloweentown," you whisper, letting your robes fall down to expose your feathers. Surprised, he feels his hands down the dark green and black. He can tell this is the most vulnerable you've been with anyone.

"Your mother's?" You nod. Your mother being the Harlequin Demon, you had gotten the feathers from her. He keeps going, rubbing where the feather bones connect to your shoulders and back. You sigh ever so slightly as he does this, and he raises an eyebrow.

"You like that."

"It feels good. I don't know why."

"You don't need to know why something feels good," he whispers, pressing between the tender feather bones and making you arch, "You just need to feel it."

"Ohh..."

When you turn to look at him, he's got a strange twinkle of fascination in his eye, something that goes beyond any interest in intimacy. "If I was yours, we'd have each other until the sun." 

"Certain as the moon?" 

He cups your face. "I think our time has come." 

You shiver a little, and tug your robe back on. "It's getting early. The sun will be up soon, I don't want to burn."

He takes your arm again. “Allow me to escort you home.”

“Very well,” you say, “But only to the door. My father will have you killed.”

He smirks. “I’m already dead.” 

“This time, everyone will come to your funeral to make sure you _stay_ dead.”

The moon as your backdrop, you walk home with him. His spindly hand slips into yours.


	3. Chapter 3

"What are you talking about?" you ask, draping yourself over him from behind as he toils over his books, oh, those books he spends hours digging into. He looks back at you, blinking those long, ghostly white lashes.

"I've heard rumours from Lock, Shock and Barrel. There are worlds on the outskirts of town."

"Worlds?" you murmur, worrying for his sanity, "But there is only Halloween. It's all we know." You take down your black velvet hood as the last sun of the day is at last extinguished. 

"No. Anomalies of a different dimension," he marvels, snapping the book shut and getting up. He twirls you once, watching a few bats flutter from beneath your skirts. You cross your arms, and lift your chin in disapproval. You're still sensitive down there from the delightful torture session in his chambers the other night. 

"You shouldn't trust one word out of those three."

"What about me? Don't you trust me?" He looks at you, pale eyes wide, hand outstretched.

"No," you smirk, but take his hand anyway. He lets out a triumphant chuckle, and opens the book again.

"Valentine's Day... Christmas..."

"Heartless, you're speaking in tongues."

"Listen to me, Deadling. I have a dream." You're wary, but you indulge his excitement. "A dream to spread our home's Halloween gloom. My father wants me to carry on in his footsteps as leader of Halloweentown? The best thing to do is begin in a blaze of glory."

"Spread the horror of Halloween to all these other worlds," you realize, and begin to smile. He grins with you, taking your hands.

"Don't you see the genius?"

You snort. "Now you're starting to sound like my mother."

With a cracked smile, he gets up, and stands by the window. “Spread Halloween like the plague, and watch every world fall into darkness.” You come up behind him.

“How romantic.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Your head rests on his shoulder as he rocks you gently to the zombie band's late night blues. Your skin glows in the moonlight, and he is enraptured. 

"I want you," he confesses. 

"I know."

"I must have you."

"You already do." His crimson lips turn up, and he seems to glow even brighter for a second, before returning to the gloom. "I'm worried, Heartless."

He strokes your hair. "Shhh. Nothing to worry about. Halloween will spread, and we will rule. No more Mayors... only the two of us, and all of our otherworldly subjects." 

You recall with trepidation what the Vampire Prince had said to you a fortnight ago. 

_"He's a madman, my love."_

_Your father's cape sweeps the floor as he worries back and forth in your tower._

_"He's a revolutionary. You'll see."_

_"It is a mistake to follow him on his tirades! He is up to something!" Your father swoops in, fangs protruding. "He is on his way down. He wants to take you with him."_

_"And I will willingly go," you say, and your father sighs._

_"I cannot stop you. Know that there is good, and there is bad. We are all bad, but that Mayor's son... he is something very different altogether. He is a dangerous entity, and he has ensnared you."_

"No one can stop me," Marilyn whispers in your ear. You look up at him, watching his white eye. He meets your gaze, and conjures up a black rose. "Together as one?" He pricks his finger on the thorns, and you taste him. 

"Against all others." 

A chill runs through your bones as the Werewolf howls. Was this the end? 


	5. Chapter 5

"What have I done?"

Everything surrounding you is in tatters. The other worlds destroyed, Jack Skellington a pile of dust, and for what? The spread of a holiday you could have kept where it should be. 

"You did what you wanted to," you say, devoid of any emotion. He's on the ground, laying against a tombstone. 

"I wish I could sink into the box six feet under me," he growls, and hits the tombstone so hard it cracks. A couple ghosts fly out from behind it, protesting his disturbance, but he doesn't give them a second look."Do you still love me?" 

"Of course." 

"No you don't." 

"I love you."

"Would you run to the edge of the world with me?"

"Which world?"

"The only world we know."

The two of you walk through the forest past Oogie's layer, and Lock, Shock, and Barrel appear.

"Disappointed, Manson?"

"You look saaad, Manson!"

"Why the long face, Manson?!"

Your love turns to them, morose as ever. "I'm not in the mood."

"You two need any help?"

"If you mean a deal, then no. We'd rather not," you say. He takes your hand.

"We've done enough damage."

"Just remember. Oogie was counting on you!"

"Now he's real mad."

"He's reeeal mad, Manson."

Manson sighs, and takes your hand, continuing to walk. "I'll take care of that bag of bugs. I'll kill this entire town if I have to prove what I can do."

You lean into him as the two of you finally make it back to town, and sit atop the curling hill, looking out over the Halloweentown graveyard. "Bite me."

"What?" you murmur. 

"Eat me," he says, taking off his spiraling hat, "Drink me. I want to be with you until the end of time." 

You lay him down, and after momentary hesitation, carefully sink your fangs into his pale neck, watching as his long lashes descend to touch his cheeks. You feel his hands grasp yours tighter, tighter still, until... nothing. His eyes open. 

"The townsfolk will call for my head for my failure."

"There's always a way out of things. You can perform. If you cannot be the leader, you can be an artist. Together as one..."

He takes your hand, feeling the wound on his neck surge. He lifts his chin, and stands up, legs growing to their full height. He puts his top hat back on, his white eye glowing as he leads you down the hill. "Against all others." 

The large moon behind you illuminates your two figures, your shadows looming in macabre, horrible, perfect symmetry. You're simply meant to be. 


End file.
